Missed and Found
by Incandescent.mind
Summary: Hermione Granger didn't receive her Hogwarts letter until she was 15 years old, and her Muggle upbringing has made her, let's say, interesting. She's about to shock the Wizarding world. ACTIVE again!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, I'm back...ish. Right now my muse for my two other stories has died a tragic death. So for **

**now I shall be working on this new one and any little drabbles that mange to irritate me enough to type them out. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any HP characters, settings and so on and so forth.** Also this is gonna be OOC, as in how I would like to see

Hermione be but there will be some of her original self thrown in too. If you don't like it don't read it and then take up my inbox with pointless

complaints. I will ignore you.

* * *

Hermione Granger was an unusual child. She wasn't as social as her parents would have liked, nor was she as brilliant as they imagined her to be

in place of her social life. Well, that's not quite true, she was a literal genius but like most with her level of intelligence she was easily bored by the

mundane teachings offered at her school. Not many things there caught her attention and when they did her fascination only lasted as long as her

incomprehension of the item or subject in question. All of that aside, none of these were what made her unusual; she was different from the other

children (and most adults really) because she accepted that everything would always be static and ever changing at once and that there was no

black and white, just endless shades of gray. She knew that people would always be who they wanted as well as what everyone else wanted

them to be and very few people would every truly be happy with either one.

* * *

Days passed by with little distinction from one another, the clock counting down until she had to get up and resume her pointless activities of

recess and show and tell. Well, she didn't have to do show and tell any more; it was more like she wasn't allowed to do show and tell any more.

She had quiet enjoyed voicing her observations of the general incompetence of the administrators and staff at her school and how to run the

government more effectively but her teacher, Mrs Olson, had been horrified. Apparently, ten year olds shouldn't know how corrupt the whole

political system was or how the 'good-ol'- boys' club ran. And that's how her parent teacher conferences began with a startling regularity. Which

lead her to her current situation. Damn you show and tell!

* * *

It was with heavy eyelids and boredom in her soul that Hermione Granger made her way to her school five blocks from her home. It was

raining, once again, and she hated it. _Stupid weather patterns, stupid England. Why does it have to rain all the time? Why won't my parents listen _

_when I say we should move to Greece or perhaps the Caribbean? _The gray sidewalk, sky and buildings just made her wet trek all that more

depressing. A freight truck rumbled pass the miserable girl and managed to hit the only pothole completely filled with water, soaking her from the

hip down on one side. She sighed. _Damn it... of course. Lovely. Kill me now. _While she was contemplating just ditching and going anywhere but

school she realized that she had actually reached the wretched place without noticing. _I'm already here...plus the History teacher just spotted _

_me...now there's no escape. _"Ah! Miss Granger, how are you this rather dreary day?" Hermione just stared at the man. _Was he an idiot?_ The look

on her face must have conveyed her though quite well because he suddenly looked a bit flustered and abruptly excused himself. The bell signaling

the last five minutes to get to class had begun rang out and the last few stragglers hurried past her to get inside._ And another day in Hell _

_begins._

**~Further along in the day~**

"Alright class, today we will begin a project that will determine a quarter of your grade for this semester. We will be dissecting the works of

several prominent authors..." the English lit. teacher droned on but Hermione tuned him out. It wasn't like she couldn't just get the same

information off of the packets that he was sure to be handing out. The man was packet happy. She gazed out the window she was sitting next

to, wishing that she could be anywhere but class. It was all boring anyway and provided her with no challenge whatsoever. _I should probably go_

_ up another grade or two. They're all the same here, maybe I could look into University courses? There might be something of interest there. I'll have to_

_ set up another meeting with mum, dad and the administrators. _The bell that ended class sounded and Hermione lazily stood up, grabbed her rather

tattered but well loved emerald canvas bag and made for the exit. _Lunch time. Oh joy._

**~That night at the Grangers'~**

"Mum, dad we need to talk." Both older Granger family members shared a look; they knew that tone. It meant that they probably wouldn't like

what their daughter had to say. Her mother was the first to respond, "Okay dear, just let me get these dishes cleaned and we'll sit down in the

living room." Hermione nodded and left the dining room while her father followed his wife into the kitchen. As soon as she turned on the water he

asked "What do you think it's about? It's rare when Hermione wants to talk with us." Mrs. Granger sighed. "Love, if I knew we wouldn't be

having this conversation. Let's just get these done and go talk to her."

* * *

**Please R & R.**

**Feedback is welcome!**

**Also, I seem to be having some formatting issues...**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay! It's been a while since I've updated anything but here's a new chapter! It's short but I am going to**

** be working on another chapter as soon as I get this successfully posted! As always, reviews are appreciated!**

* * *

**~ Five years Later~**

**It's so fucking cold!** **Some times** **I HATE this damn country!** A relatively short (relativity is everything, isn't it?),

sixteen year old young woman trudged up the street against the bitter wind of a miserable late November evening. "I

wish I had brought my coat but noooo! I just had to leave the damn thing at home where it's doing me a hell of a lot of

good now! I can't feel my arms, or much of anything else either...great. I'm going to die because I'm an idiot. Lovely.

Bloody fucking wonderful!" If anyone else had been out on the street they would have been staring at her. She made

quite a sight, a young pretty teenager swearing and talking to herself who was slowly turning blue from the cold with hair

that looked like it lost a round with a possessed curling iron. "Only two more blocks, then I'll be home and I can get

warm!" That had been her mantra for the last twelve blocks that she'd been walking due to missing the last connection of

the night for the buses. "Stupid Professor, going over like that. Some people have more important things to do than listen

to a puffed up wind bag like him go on about things he knows nothing about. Such as MAKE A BUS! Pompous old ass."

* * *

Seven minutes and forty-one seconds later she'd made it home. Her hands were shaking from being so cold and

she could hardly hold still long enough to get her key into the lock. As she managed to get the key steady, the door just

down the hall squeaked open and her neighbor in 2C walked towards her. "Ah, hello Hermione. You look absolutely lovely

this evening." **And it begins. I'm really in no mood to deal with this idiot tonight.** "This idiot" being Jack Morris, her

neighbor for the past year and general annoyance for every 365 days of said year. She sighed and said without turning,

"No, I don't. I look like I've been out in this crap weather." Hermione opened her door, stepped inside and flipped her

lights on. "Goodbye Jack." She shut her front door with a hollow thud and heard a slightly muffled "And that's strike three

for the week." "Then give up!" Was her response, one that she had repeated many, many times over the course of

twelve months but the boy was so thick he never took the hint. She'd tried to be nice the first few months but she quickly

figured out that Jack just didn't get it. She wasn't interested; she'd even gone so far as to say that she was a lesbian and

that was why she wouldn't go out with him. His reply? "That's alright. I can make any woman straight." Cocky little

bastard. **Onto other, important matters. Such as regaining the feeling in my fingers and getting some warm **

**food in me. And maybe a hot shower. Ohhh, that sounds excellent. **

**

* * *

**

Her flat was simple, a one bedroom, one bath with a small-ish living room/kitchen area and a front hall closet and

tiny entry way. It wasn't the nicest of places but it was hers and that's what mattered. The walls of the living room were a

light turquoise with thin, white stripes that contrasted nicely with her rather plain dark gray love seat that she'd found at a

used furniture store. The kitchen was painted in a color very similar to the love seat. The radio that sat on the kitchen

window sill was on almost constantly and tuned to all of the different stations she could pick up. What she listened to

depended on her mood that day or sometimes it changed hourly but was generally on one of the stations that played

American rock. "Alright, what do I have to eat? No...no...eww, I think this needs to go." She pulled out a take out carton

with...something tinged green in it. "Yes, definitely time to go. What else? Ah ha! Leftover pasta from two nights ago! And

it's not green."

* * *

Thirty minutes later Hermione was just stepping out of a scalding hot and oh-so-nice shower that she had been

relaxing in for the last quarter hour when she heard a rather peculiar tapping sound coming from her living room. **What is **

**that? **She ignored it while she went to her bedroom to get dressed for bed. She slipped on her favorite pair of sweats, a

long sleeved green shirt and some of her thick winter socks that could actually keep her feet from freezing and then made

her way back to the living room where the tapping could still be heard. "Is that an owl?" **What the hell? Why is there an **

**owl at my window? **The brown haired girl went over to the window and lightly rapped on the pane, trying to scare the

bird away but it just looked at her and cocked it's head as if to say "What are you doing crazy woman?" "Huh. That is one

strange bird. I wonder if it's someone's pet. It seems use to people. Maybe it's lost...can birds get lost?" Talking to herself

was a normal occurrence although it had a tendency to garner her odd looks from those near her. It helped her to gather

her ideas into cohesive thought instead of the steady ramble and jumble that plagued her mind continually, making it

difficult for her to pay attention to things on occasion...sometimes...always. It was so bad that when she was seven her

teacher had suggested to her parents that they may want to get her tested for ADHD. To make a long story short, just

know that there were tears and hysterics had by all and the test administrator had banned her from the facility for life.

* * *

**And that's chapter 2! Please R & R!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The bird was still there and it didn't seem like it was going to leave any time soon. With an irritated sigh, she decided to open her window, just to

see if she could get the damn thing to move. Yeah, not her brightest move. As soon as there was a gap large enough for the owl to fit through, it

shoved it's soaked, little feathery body through it, passed her surprised frame and flew about her living room until it found a place it wanted to

land, namely her couch. "Get off you bloody bird! You're soaking my couch!" After getting over her initial shock, Hermione was quick to chase the

bird off of her beloved couch and onto the small breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the living area.

* * *

As she stood there, trying to figure out how to get it out of her flat, she was subconsciously studying it, her eyes going slightly hazy as though she

weren't really looking at the animal sitting across from her but through it. _For such an annoying thing, it is adorable._ It was mostly a dark gray, due

to the weather or it's own coloring she didn't know, and at the moment it was ruffling it's whole body up, making it look like a very damp, very fluffy

piece of cotton. "What do I do with you now?" She mused to herself. "I've never actually dealt with a bird before, much less an owl who was

determined to get into my home. . ." Her quiet words were interrupted by a soft hoot. Whiskey colored eyes swung back to the topic of her

thoughts, "What? You want in on the conversation now?" Hermione laughed to herself.

* * *

She always did have a tendency to talk to animals as though they could converse back. At her words the owl bobbed it's head in confirmation.

Hermione blinked. _I'm sure that that was just an odd __coincidence. It couldn't have possibly understood me._ "Could you little bird? No matter how

intelligent you are, you just don't have the same brain functions as a human." This time a rather loud and _indignant?_ hoot came in response. "Okay

then... perhaps you can understand me. If that's the case, why are you here?" She (well, she couldn't just keep calling it 'it', now could she?)

hopped to the edge of the bar and held out one leg and shook it a bit. _Uh-huh. And what is that all about? _ The owl hooted and shook it's

appendage at Hermione, as though impatient. "Alright, okay. What is it? You want to shake?" Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Hermione Granger!

Tamer of all beasts! The poor girl was rather unused to animals, wild or domestic and only had a variety of fish growing up because she had a

tendency to forget to feed them. Needless to say, she never had them for long. If owls rolled their eyes, this one definitely did at her words. It was

an owl, not a dog for cripes' sake! A bit unsure of how the animal would react, Hermione slowly edged towards it to get a better look at it's leg.

Secured to the proffered limb was a small metal messenger tube. _How old fashioned! It's like one of those pigeons that was used back in World War I._

Now thoroughly amused, she quickly untied the cylinder. Turning it upside down a small bit of paper slid out. _Wait, that's not quite right._ "...is this

parchment? This is becoming more and more strange." Unfurling it she found that it was addressed to her, specifically:

Miss Hermione Granger

Flat 4A, Fourth Floor

The living room

London, England

"Now this is a bit creepy." She glanced at the owl, looking like it was trying to fall asleep now that it's job was complete for the moment. "Okay

then...might as well see if there's anything else to it.

* * *

**A/N: Short, I know but it's better than nothing, yes? Anywho, please R & R. It is always appreciated! Once again, I suck with the formatting!**

** Why won't it stay the way I had it? It's driving me crazy!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N - I'm on a roll! 3 chapters for 2 different stories in 2 days =D I amaze myself.**

* * *

_**Dear Miss Granger,**_

_**It has recently come to our attention that you did not, in all likelihood, receive your original **_

_**Letter of Acceptance from those of us here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We **_

_**would like to apologize, and send you our deepest regrets for this mishap. The issue is under **_

_**investigation at this moment as to how, and why your letter was lost - there has been no **_

_**documented case of this before, and we are understandably at a loss.**_

_**If it is convenient for you, a representative of our school will arrive in two days time in order to**_

_**fix your**__**entrance into the school, and to answer any questions you may have.**_

**_Sincerely,_**

_**Albus Percival Wulfric Dumbledore**_

_**Headmaster of Hogwarts**_

_**P.S. - Feed the bird, if you will. He gets cranky when he's hungry.**_

* * *

_Feed the bird?_ "Feed the bird?" This time Hermione spoke aloud while eying said bird with some

trepidation. What did he mean, cranky? Would the bird bite her? Did owls bit people? She didn't know,

she wasn't an ornithologist for Pete's sake! Keeping one eye on the bird she went to her small kitchen

area, took out a box of crackers from the cabinet next to the fridge, and offered one to the possibly

cranky bird. She hoped it wasn't the biting type - after her shit day in school, followed by missing her

bus, and the walk home in icy rain, Hermione was not in the mood to deal with an owl the size of a

child's football deciding to take off a few of her fingers. "Here . . . Bird. I have crackers for you." She

tried to keep her voice calm, and her nervousness out of it but as the bird spread its wings, and shook

itself a bit she couldn't help but let out a small, shriek of pure terror. **_Owls are so much bigger when _**

**_they're sitting on your kitchen island!_** When she stopped cringing, and re-opened her eyes, she saw

that the owl was looking at her with, well, if it were a human she'd say that it looked exasperated with

her - but it was waiting for her to give it the crackers, and with very good manners she'd say. For an

owl. Not wanting to take the chance of coming up a fingertip or two short, Hermione set the food down

in front of her house guest, and stepped back. "Ah, so. Those good for you? Do you need anything

else?" She felt like an idiot for talking to it but she was surprised when it hooted very softly, and began

to swivel its head towards her sink, and then back to her. " . . . water?" She inquired. Of course it

would need water, those crackers had to be dry. She didn't remember when she bought them but it

most likely was not within the last few months. "As if that's normal, Hermione Jane. An owl wants a cup

of water to wash down the crackers. Right. I bet I have a very high fever, and that this is all some very

odd, very vivid hallucination that it brought on. Yes, that's it. You're even talking to yourself aloud.

This is the dancing bear, and shape-shifting dog all over again. No need to panic, just take a fever

reducer, and go to bed." Alas, that was not to be; the owl decided that it was time to go, and she

walked back to the window that she had allowed its entrance through, opened it, and out it flew.

Hermione watched it fade swiftly into the dark storm that had blanketed London for the last several

days. Finally, when it registered that her hands were becoming soaked, and cold once again due to the

rain, she pulled the glass pane closed again, latched it, and drew her curtain back to block out the

night. As she turned to face her domicile, all she could think was, _"Huh. That was different."_


End file.
